


untitled.

by jodem



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humanstuck, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 16:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jodem/pseuds/jodem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your heart feels like it’s just been blown up. A sudden chill creeps across the room and you’re not sure if the shaking is coming from the cold or if it’s something else. “Nothing?” You squeak out. You’re staring at the fingerless gloves on your hands—especially your right hand, entwined with Mituna’s bare, too-pale hand. It looks so wrong and morbid and you just want to go back to a few weeks earlier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and posted it on Tumblr. I finally got my AO3 invite and this is the most recent thing I've written so I figured I should post it!

“Are you sure you don’t wish to be a part of our skating program, Miss Pyrope?”

You find it hard to breathe; this decision could have an effect on the rest of your life. “Could I have like, a few days or something?”

“Certainly.” He gives you whatever information is it you need and you hang up quickly, wanting to get into the hospital room as fast as you can. You shove your phone into your bag before pushing the door to his room open and walking inside.  
Mituna glances at you and tries to smile, but gives up when his face won’t work the way he wants it to. “Hi.”

“Hey!” You force a smile and kiss him on the forehead. It’s really tempting to just lay down beside to him and hold him close, but you settle for sitting in the chair next to his bed and grab his hand instead. “Anything exciting happen today?”

His eyes turn downcast for a brief moment. “It’s not good.” The lisp is getting worse.

“What’s not?”

“My condition.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s a lot of internal bleeding. The doctors said there isn’t anything we can do at this point.”

Your heart feels like it’s just been blown up. A sudden chill creeps across the room and you’re not sure if the shaking is coming from the cold or if it’s something else. “Nothing?” You squeak out. You’re staring at the fingerless gloves on your hands—especially your right hand, entwined with Mituna’s bare, too-pale hand. It looks so wrong and morbid and you just want to go back to a few weeks earlier.

“A week, tops.”

“What?” Your head shoots up.

“I have less than a week left. Anytime now.” 

No.

nonononononononono.

“Don’t do this. Stop kidding around it’s not funny just stop.” It’s hard to breathe and he seems to realize that because he tries to move closer but is too weak to do so. You say fuck it and climb into his bed, clinging to him like he’s your last hope—because he is. Mituna can’t die. He won’t. 

You can feel him kiss the top of your head. “You’ve been trying to hide it, but you’ve stopped skating.”

“I don’t care about skating. I want you to—”

“No, just listen.” Mituna waits for you before he continues. “You can go places with your skating. Plenty of colleges want you—they want to give you a full ride, even. Don’t turn them down.”

“I don’t want to skate without you.” It sounds so fucking pitiful and you’re kind of ashamed of yourself. Every wish you’ve made since the accident has been for you to switch places with him so why has nothing worked? You can’t do this without him. You learned together. You were both going to go to college to compete in competitions and knock everyone out of the park. You were going to take turns in each other’s dorm rooms, playing video games in your underwear and having sloppy makeout sessions on the couch. You were going to be together.

He sighs, followed by some coughs. “You’re going to go to college on a great scholarship for skating. And you’re going to meet a wonderful boy who—”

“Stop, I don’t want to. You’re going to get better.” Lying to yourself only makes it worse.

“Please? I don’t want you to be miserable and alone.”

The next forty minutes are spent with you sobbing and clinging to him as he whispers things just loud enough for you to hear them. After a long bit of silence, he has another coughing fit. “Please, Latula.”

You sniff loudly and sit up so you can look him in the eyes. “Okay.”

And he smiles. You kiss him and he continues to smile.

He doesn’t stop smiling.


End file.
